


untitled

by thingswithwings



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-30
Updated: 2007-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack thinks: <i>it’s working</i>.  Energy arches between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled

**Author's Note:**

> It's set between The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords, which means it has spoilers for the first but not for the second (for, verily, LotTL hasn't aired yet). I do not have a title for it, as it is less _fanfiction_ and more _breathless anticipation for the finale tonight._

The moment the Master’s out of the room, Jack makes the pitch.

“Doctor, there’s something we can try. I think I can de-age you.”

The Doctor wheels himself over to where Jack’s chained to the wall, a little pained grimace etching his face as he looks for strength in his old muscles. The guards watch, but don’t interfere; the Doctor is too weak to get very far if he were to make a break for it.

“What’s your plan?” The Doctor asks, bracing himself on the arms of the wheelchair and levering himself up to stand in front of Jack.

Good question. Jack’s never had to really explain this process before, and isn’t really sure how it works himself. “I’ve got – there’s so much life in me, and sometimes I can share it . . .” It’s embarrassing, and he’s at a loss for words. Being embarrassed and at a loss for words isn’t Jack’s style. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’ve been known to kiss people back to life,” he says, clearly, meeting the Doctor’s eyes.

The Doctor laughs, then, a dry, brittle sound, but it’s echoed by the warmth it used to hold. Even with his face changed so drastically, Jack can see that look that the Doctor’s so fond of giving him – incredulity and warning, with a hint of _please-don’t-tell-me-you-think-you’re-getting-away-with-that_ exasperation.

“Jack,” he drawls in his usual way.

“No, really. I’ve kissed half of Cardiff back to life, and I promise I’ll show you my references later, but we should try it.”

The Doctor shrugs easily – too easily, and Jack wonders for the first time how much of his slow, painful movement is a performance for the guards. “All right, let me have it, then.”

Jack rattles his chains pointedly. “You’ll have to come to me, I’m afraid.”

“Won’t that be a first,” the Doctor mutters as he leans in and presses his lips to Jack’s.

Jack looks for that feeling inside of himself, the feeling he’d had when he did this for Ianto: tries to access the light inside and channel it up to the place where he’s kissing the Doctor’s dry, warm mouth.

The Doctor gives him a little swoop of tongue, then, and Jack thinks: _it’s working_. Energy arches between them.

But when the Doctor pulls back, and Jack opens his eyes, nothing has changed: he’s still old, wrinkled and weak. His eyes look oldest of all, dark and so tired.

“I guess it didn’t work,” Jack says, finally.

“I guess not.” The Doctor doesn’t meet his eyes as he sits back down in his wheelchair and starts to move away.

There’s a long pause before Jack speaks again. “Did you know that it wouldn’t work?”

The Doctor is facing the window, watching the Earth get torn to pieces below them. But he turns slightly and smiles at Jack.

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”


End file.
